No Turning Back
by momoxtoshiro
Summary: [Vol6 ep 12] Blake's never known a day in her life without Adam. He'd always been there, if not directly at her side then in the back of her mind. Ever since she can remember...


**Written immediately after I saw the glory of episode 12. Most if it is just opinionated flashbacks and canon events retell, but I had a lot I wanted to say about this episode and this scene, so I just had to write it out.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.**

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No Turning Back

Blake's never known a day in her life without Adam.

He'd always been there, if not directly at her side then in the back of her mind. Ever since she can remember...

She'd first met him in the back alleyways of Menagerie, before it had been given exclusively to the Faunus. At the time, human children had still roamed the streets, tormenting those with ears and tails, making life even more difficult than it already was.

Blake had been so young. Her parents knew better than to send her to market alone to run petty errands, but they were both always so busy. Blake had wanted to help. She'd wanted to surprise them and get her chores done on her own.

And so she'd ventured toward the market with a basket on her arm and a few dozen lien in her pocket.

And the humans hunted her.

They watched her from around every corner, spat at her and called her names, all the terrible things they usually did when she was with her parents, and then some. Only that time she didn't have her mother and father to protect her.

A group of human children eventually attacked her, shredding her basket and beating her until the coins fell from her pocket for them to snatch up. Not that they needed them. The humans were well-fed here, while the only gaunt and starving shadows living in the streets were those of Faunus.

Blake had cried and begged them to stop, but they hadn't.

Not until someone made them.

Adam had only been a few inches taller than her at the time, and he'd been scrawny and rugged.

But he was brave.

His strange red hair was a color Blake had never seen before, and his eyes were a stunning blue.

He'd taken the rest of her beating for her that day.

And for many more days to come.

They'd stuck together, made a partnership, and formed a bond. They'd promised to stick together, and to fight the injustices forced upon the Faunus.

Blake had snuck out many times to see him, even when she knew she shouldn't have. It had been a little scary, but every time she found him waiting for her in the shadows, she felt safe.

He taught her how to fight, how to use everyday objects to her advantage as weapons, taught her how to break fingers and ribs and knock out teeth.

Blake had only ever known how to run before, how to hide. But he taught her how to stand up and fight back.

It was empowering. She felt safe with him. She felt like she could make a difference for her people.

So she made a promise to him.

And she followed him.

She followed him down a path she believed would lead to a brighter future.

It would take many years for her to realize that somewhere along the lines that path split and veered off into darkness instead.

Soon, he wasn't fighting just to defend himself. He was attacking because he _wanted_ to. He'd smile as he hurt people, just like the human children had smiled when they'd hurt the Faunus.

For the longest time, Blake had thought humans were the only cruel ones. She didn't know how long it took for her to realize that double-standard.

And Adam was the one who taught it to her.

He'd laugh while hurting others. He'd deliberately seek out ways to make them bleed when things could easily have been solved with words. He'd enjoyed their pain, but not in the sense that he enjoyed it because it meant keeping someone else safe at their expense.

He enjoyed it because it made them _suffer_.

By the time Blake realized she loved him, it was already far too late. She was trapped.

He'd ambushed her in a different sense, lured her in with the prospects of safety and revolution, only to drag her into his violent coups.

The peaceful rallies soon became uproarious battlefields. Much blood was shed in the Faunus-Human wars, and she was convinced that at least half of it was because of Adam's influence in some way.

She'd never forget the look in his eyes the first time he'd killed someone.

Blake had shaken so violently she'd nearly been ill.

But Adam had smiled. He'd laughed. He'd taken the murdered man's cloak as his own, and worn it as a prize ever since.

Once he'd unlocked his semblance, he used it to harm others. And oftentimes, Blake was using hers to lure people into his traps.

It was too late when she'd realized she didn't feel safe with him anymore. In fact, she'd only felt more hunted than she ever had in all her life.

And then he began bringing her on his missions to destroy the Schnee Dust Company. Blake hated them as much as any other Faunus did at the time, but she didn't want to kill anyone.

Adam was different. She felt she had no choice but to go with him, like always.

So she went, and she cried in the shadows as she watch him slit the throats of the human workers who had families of their own. She didn't participate in the killings directly, but she used her skills to assist Adam to get there. She felt just as responsible as if she'd drawn their blood herself.

She remembers the day Adam got captured. It'd been her fault.

She'd tried time and again to persuade him to help free the enslaved Faunus working in the mines rather than slay their overseers. And finally one day he'd decided to listen to her.

He'd gotten caught.

He'd gotten caught, and he'd yelled for her to come help.

And she didn't. She'd been too scared. All she did was hide and cry.

She'd heard his screams echoing around the quarry, splitting the night in agony.

Blake had run. She'd run so hard and so quickly that she'd fallen straight into a ditch and broken her leg. She laid there all throughout the night, sobbing, fearing they'd killed Adam. They'd find her in the morning, and she'd be next. Part of her almost wished it'd be true.

But it wasn't Schnee's men who found her. It was who always found her.

He'd been covered in blood, too much for it to only be his. His left eye was burned shut, and the initials of the brutal company were branded across his face.

Blake cried all the way back to their hideout. She thought he'd be angry at her for running. But he'd assumed her leg had been broken when she'd tried to come help him, not run away like a coward.

He'd forgiven her, and made her believe she could still love him.

But from that day onward, once he put the mask over his face for good, there'd been no more hopes of saving him.

He'd killed so many, even innocents. Whatever he did, he did angrily, violently, and selfishly. He'd never let Blake go anywhere without his permission or advisement.

He'd talk to her tenderly one minute, then yell the next. He'd touch her gently, and then he'd hit her.

She wouldn't realize it until much later, but he hurt her more than all the humans combined.

She remembers the blood he'd made her shed for his cause – her own blood as well as others'.

She remembers when she'd started to consider leaving him.

She remembers the crushing fear that came along with such thoughts.

She couldn't leave him. She couldn't betray him. He'd kill her for sure.

It took her many years of watching him make things worse before she finally found enough strength buried beneath all her cowardice.

So the day on the train, she'd cut him off from the crew, and from herself.

Or so she'd thought.

That day had been the most liberating, and the most terrifying of her life.

She'd known then and there she'd chosen to seal her own fate. That he would hunt her down relentlessly. That he wouldn't stop until he'd killed her himself.

And from that day forward, even though he wasn't physically with her, he was in every other way. He was in her nightmares, in her shadows, in her own clones. He had taught her how to fight. He was in her movements and her mannerisms, in her thoughts and her voice.

Even after she'd escaped to Vale and to Beacon and made friends, he was always with her.

Her thoughts had always strayed back to him, be it in the middle of a class or the middle of a fight. She'd just be hit with the overpowering sense of dread, so strong she felt she was going to be ill.

Beacon was dangerous. Making friends was dangerous.

Because she knew if she ever came to care about anything or anyone else, Adam would make them suffer first.

And that's exactly what he'd done.

As promised, he'd started with Yang.

And it turns out he'd end with her, too.

. . .

Blake's fingers nearly break with how forcefully she's gripping the handle of her broken weapon. Her boots dig themselves into the ground and keep her rooted in place.

The air all around her is thick from the heat of the battle. Everything inside of her is rushing – her adrenaline, her heart, her blood...

 _Blood_.

It spreads across Adam's clothing at the end of her blade, and more drips down from where Yang had pushed the tip through his back. It trickles down the cold metal and brushes softly along Blake's fingers, one by one.

Everything is blurred by the tears.

She can't breathe. She can't see.

But she can feel his weight slouched against her, a weight that had once brought her comfort and security.

Now it's limp and heavy.

She hears his grunt of pain as she pulls out the blade. He'd used to chuckle with that voice, used to tell her of his future ambitions and dreams of Faunus liberations with that voice.

And now it's strangled, gurgling.

She can smell his blood on her hands, blood that countless people had shed over and over as he'd shed theirs in return.

Blake had hurt many people. She'd made many of them bleed, too.

But Adam is the first she's ever killed with her own two hands.

She's going to make sure he'll be the last.

She limps back, still clutching her blade until her knuckles drain of her own blood and make Adam's all the redder.

She watches him stagger to the edge of the cliff and drop to his knees.

She watches him teeter, watches him sway.

Part of her almost wants to rush out to catch him.

It takes everything – everything she's experienced up until now, everyone she'd watched him kill, every lesson of love and forgiveness her teammates had ever shown her – not to.

But she wants to. She _wants_ to save him. She's always wanted to save him. Even when she'd known deep in the darkest shadows of her heart that he couldn't be saved.

He'd passed the point of no return long ago.

Maybe it was her own fault. Maybe there was something she could have done to prevent it.

But she doesn't think that's true. He'd chosen his path, and she'd chosen hers. If she hadn't, she might be dying alongside him right this very second.

Dying...

He's dying.

Right now.

Right in front of her.

She'd _killed_ him...

She blinks, and suddenly he's gone.

He slumps over the edge, and he's gone.

She hears the collision far below when his body hits the rocks, then the water.

And it feels like _she'd_ been the one pierced through.

All the nights they'd spent as children patrolling the streets, hiding out in the forests and playing, training together and learning how to fight.

All of the times he'd picked her up and helped her, treated her wounds and listened to her fears, ruffled her ears and reassured her.

All of the times he'd promised her revolution and justice. All of the rallies, the missions to free the enslaved, the visions of a more peaceful world.

They were all gone.

But so too were all the times he'd hit her, degraded and belittled her, called her a weakling and a coward.

All the times he'd threatened her, forced her to help him hurt others.

All the times he'd killed, and smiled while doing it.

All of it.

All she'd ever known.

All she'd ever feared...

She'd never wanted it to end like this. She'd tried to sway him, time and again. She'd tried to change his mind.

She'd _tried_.

She really had.

Maybe she could've tried harder, but she'd _tried_..

It just hadn't been enough.

And now...

Now it's... over.

It's finally-

" _Nngh_ -"

She falls like the world has been ripped from under her, collapses as if _she's_ the one who'd taken the fatal blow. Her blistered hands can't hold on anymore. Her fists uncurl all at once, dropping the blade still soaked in Adam's blood. It clatters before her as her fingers curl helplessly back in on themselves.

She feels sick. Sicker than she'd felt when she'd watched him murder innocent people. It's a hollow heaviness that pounds in the pit of her stomach, throbs in the scar on her side, and churns at her core. Her blood is still rushing, slamming in her ears louder than the hiss of the waterfall that would be Adam's grave. Her pulse thunders harder than the falls, shaking her from the inside out. Her breath barely comes, and when it does it isn't enough.

Everything aches, her heart worst of all.

It's all gone. It's all over...

Some part of her already wants it back – wants _him_ back.

She just wishes it could have been different, that it could have ended some other way...

But the damage was too great. This was the only way. She has to believe it was the right one.

Her voice cracks with sobs that heave through her whole body, sputtering out in broken, trembling breaths.

She's never felt so sick, cried so hard, or shaken so badly. It's as if all the times she'd had to suppress it in the past has culminated to erupt now, all at once. His blood is still on her hands. She feels she'll never get it off.

As it all comes crashing down on top of her, shudders of cold begin running through her, alongside the ones of shock.

He'd once been the one to keep her warm, so long as she'd do as he asked of her the next day.

But now...

Now it's someone else who keeps her warm.

Yang races to her side, no doubt still in shock herself. But the concern she feels at Blake's distress far outweighs Yang's disbelief and her own pain.

One second, Blake is curled in on herself on the bloodstained ground, shivering on the outside while bile and guilt burn her from within.

And then suddenly she's warm.

Yang is there.

She gathers Blake into her arms, helping her sit up just enough to snap her out of it.

And Blake turns to her as if it's magnetic, as if her body had already known she would come even before Yang herself had known it. Blake turns to her like she's been waiting all these years to turn to someone; someone she knows she can trust with her life.

It doesn't feel real. None of it.

Not until Yang's arms are around her, pulling her close.

Not until Yang's warmth is spreading gently across her shaking shoulders.

Not until Yang's heart is beating steadily against the turmoil of her own.

Blake clings to her, harder and more fervently than she's ever clung to anything else before. Desperately, and weakly. She's never felt weaker in all her life.

Everything feels like it's drained from her; her will, her aura, her semblance...

But Yang holds her up. Yang is her strength.

"I..." Blake struggles to speak around the thickness clogging her throat. The tears are a burning wetness down her face and neck, stinging like the soreness left behind once the shackles have come undone. "I'm not gonna break my promise... I _swear_..."

She means it.

She'd thought she'd meant it back when she'd promised Adam so many years ago, too.

But this time... this time she _knows_ she can mean it.

Yang knows it, too. She eases back, cupping her hand gently against the side of her partner's head.

Blake leans into her palm as she lifts her face, boring her eyes into lavender.

The hands that had just helped slay Blake's tormentor – the hands that had fought so viciously and ferociously for her sake – are now so soft and gentle. Even the hard metal fingers of her right hand feel soft and warm as Yang's thumb rubs soothing circles into Blake's shoulder.

And her eyes.

Her eyes that had ignited crimson with fury, with defiance, with the desire to protect...

Her eyes show Blake everything she's never known she's wanted – _needed_ – to see.

Her eyes tell Blake that Yang is sorry for everything awful that's ever happened to her, that she's sorry for everything and everyone who has ever hurt her in any way.

She's sorry she couldn't always be there to help her through it.

She's sorry she's had to help her kill the person who had once meant Blake's entire world to her.

She's sorry for all the pain, all the shaking, all the aching beats of her heart, even though none of it is her fault.

But sorrow and regret aren't the only things in Yang's eyes.

There's so much more.

More than Blake can recognize in those fleeting seconds before Yang eases her closer, resting their foreheads together. Her voice threatens to break with how much emotion is poured into it.

 _"I know you won't_."

Blake can't take it. She can't handle everything she's feeling right now. Her misguided love for Adam, her justified fear of him, her guilt and shame and grief.

And then all of the counterparts of those things for Yang.

The relief that she's still here, that she's all right, that she's with Blake. The humbling safety of being in her arms. The warmth and strength of her support. And her love.

There's so much. So much of everything.

All she can do is cry.

It's over. It's over.

But he'll still be a part of her. He always will be. Even if it's not for the better.

He'll always be in the back of her mind and in the bottom of her heart.

He'll be in the way she moves, in the way she fights, in the way she suspects and mistrusts others.

But Yang will be there, too.

She'll be at the forefront of Blake's mind, and in the rest of her heart.

She'll be in the way Blake fights to protect, to defend, to spare lives.

She'll be in the way Blake supports and believes in others.

She'll be in the way Blake gets stronger, and finds her way back to the path she'd been walking before Adam had sliced it in two and dragged her by the hair down the wrong way.

Yang will be the light that guides her home, the fire kindling warmly in Blake's heart wherever she'll go from here.

Blake knows Yang won't leave her. She knows it with everything she is. And she's going to keep her end of the promise, too.

Blake cries, unable to control herself now. Adam's clutches on her are gradually removed by Yang's gentle hands. She caresses Blake's cheeks and all through her hair, emitting the faintest, but most comforting warmth.

Yang slowly fills the gaping hollowness in Blake's chest, eases the gnarled pain in her stomach, and soothes the pounding blood in her veins. She shares her strength with her until Blake can find her own again.

The tears don't stop, but they slow, and the agony gradually begins to ebb away.

Blake closes her eyes and tucks her face into the side of Yang's neck. Everything feels warm and golden.

Yang curls her flesh hand around to the back of Blake's head and strokes through her hair even more. Her prosthetic eases down Blake's shoulder and along her side. Even without the proper nerves, Yang can still feel her heart pounding. She rests her palm over the scar on Blake's side, covering it completely.

Blake continues sobbing.

Yang's never felt or heard her like this before. She's never seen Blake so affected by emotion. Her whole body is shaking – just _shaking_.

Yang longs to tell her things will be all right, but she isn't sure if that's the right thing to say to her right now. She pulls her in a little closer and brushes her cheek against hers.

"I've got you," she murmurs. "I've got you, Blake. I'm here..."

Blake's ears finally lift up slightly at the sound of Yang's voice, rather than the sounds of her own crying. She nods and presses her arms more firmly around Yang's torso.

"Thank you..."

It was a lot. More than she'd ever experienced before. This was all so much. More than her heart can handle all at once.

But she knows that even if this part of her journey has finally come to an end, there is still more waiting for her. There are still things she needs to do, people she needs to help, answers she needs to find.

She can't stop here. That'd be exactly what he wanted. To kill her spirit if not her body. So she won't stop.

She can't be sure of how much time has passed, but she remembers their mission now. There's still so much that needs to be done.

Her trembling arms fall away from Yang's back now as Blake wipes her eyes over and over.

"We... We've got to go..." she chokes. "We've got to-"

"Blake, hey-!" Yang holds fast to her when she tries to stand, but collapses right back to her knees. "Just take it easy for a sec, okay?"

Blake whimpers again, bowing her head. Her hands unfurl slowly in her lap, the creases still smeared with red. Yang covers them with her own and gently thumbs away the last of Adam's blood. Then, she brings Blake's hands up to her lips and kisses each in turn.

Blake's sobs grow quiet at long last. She sniffles, blinking away the last of the tears before Yang is reaching up to brush them away.

Blake can barely bring herself to look her in the eyes. It's still so overwhelming. There are so many feelings. She tries, but as soon as she meets lavender, fresh tears begin spilling again.

"Yang-"

But Yang doesn't want to just tell her it'll be okay. She shows her instead.

It's a soft kiss, so light and gentle Blake almost doesn't feel it at first. But there's no mistake about that delicate warmth breathing life and love into her soul.

Blake cries softly, feeling as her heart swells with so much affection she doesn't know what to do with it.

Yang eases back to let her catch her breath. Blake's still shivering, not just from the fight, but from the frigid winds coming off the waterfalls. She unwinds her scarf from around her shoulders and wraps it snugly around Blake's neck instead, covering her bare skin as much as possible.

"Here." She runs a hand through Blake's hair and curls a lock around her finger. "Take it."

Blake sniffles again and glances down at the orange material. It's so warm.

"Y-Yang-"

But she doesn't even know what she wants to say. She just shakes her head and hugs her again.

Yang gives her a little more time. Her heart is still pounding, and perhaps some of that is Yang's own fault now, so she wants to make sure Blake is as okay as she can possibly be, given the circumstances.

But she can't deny her partner is right. They did still have a mission to complete, and people waiting for them.

The last thing she ever wants to do is push Blake; especially now. They'd find some other way to Atlas after the group if they had to.

But Blake seems to think similarly, and knows that would only be a setback. She inches back and looks into lavender once again.

"We... We have to go-"

This isn't what she wants to be saying. There's so much more she'd rather talk about right now.

But she can't bring herself to address it just yet. Not yet. Not when they're all still in the middle of this mission.

Yang understands. With a nod she begins helping Blake to her feet. She picks up the bloodied fragments of Gambol Shroud, feeling Blake flinch as she looks away. Yang keeps a steadying hand on her back as she carefully tucks the pieces of the weapon away into the sheath on Blake's back. She then wipes her hands on her pants to ensure there's no blood on them before taking Blake's hand once more.

"You ready?"

Blake tucks her face briefly into Yang's scarf on her shoulder, taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah."

Yang squeezes her hand, and Blake squeezes back.

They take the first few staggering steps together, supporting one another all the while until they can break out into a run.

Even now, after doing what she's done, Blake feels the need to check back over her shoulder, in case he might somehow be following.

But before she can turn her head, she feels another squeeze on her hand.

When Blake does turn her face, it isn't behind her, but next to her.

Yang is there, at her side.

Not in front of her. Not leading her.

She is beside her. Supporting her. Running _with_ her, not ahead.

Blake longs to smile, but she can't remember how to. Not yet. But perhaps once all is said and done and they're on their way to Atlas with the others, she'll manage it.

But for now, Blake just runs. Like she always has.

Only this time there is someone beside her.

And she doesn't look back.

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 **A/N: I don't know what this is. I wanted to include like 8 thousand different flashbacks and scenes and emotions and it all just ended up this messy jumble. I hope it almost made sense. (And yes, I added a kiss because honestly it just felt like it fit).**

 **I wanted the title to reflect the idea of Blake no longer needing to mentally look back at her past, or physically check over her shoulder to see if Adam is following anymore.**

 **Bracing for the finale episode.**

 **Please review!**


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